


i think i love you (i've fallen in love)

by crosswalks



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Alternate Universe - Celebrity, Alternate Universe - Idols, Crushes, Fluff, Lizards, Love at First Sight, M/M, Meet-Cute, Mild Cursing, Pet Shops, based on my knowledge of kpop lol, gym 3 as an idol group
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-08-29
Updated: 2020-12-04
Packaged: 2021-03-06 15:53:49
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 5,844
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26181445
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/crosswalks/pseuds/crosswalks
Summary: “So,” Kuroo needles as he leans in, voice low, “freckles, huh?”--Kei is an idol known for never messing up onstage. Enter Yamaguchi, stage right.tsukkiyama week day 7: free day!!
Relationships: Tsukishima Kei/Yamaguchi Tadashi
Comments: 35
Kudos: 238
Collections: TsukkiYama Week 2020





	1. what if you had a gecko and i had an iguana and we were both gay

**Author's Note:**

> this is based on my limited knowledge of what goes on at kpop fansigns! so if ur confused i suggest u google that. also!! i made tsukki much more polite/flirty than he usually is in canon bc he's an idol and they provide a lot of fanservice!! i hope i balanced it out w his usual personality well haha. enjoy!!
> 
> (title is lyrics from je t'aime by oh my girl!! shoutout to my cousin for suggesting the song to me)

Tsukishima Kei does not get nervous. He is a professional: has honed his mind and body to the point where they perform effortlessly, with practiced grace and precision. And this ultimately boils down to one simple fact: Tsukishima Kei does not make mistakes onstage.

So when he stumbles mid-choreography—while in center position, no less— he feels dread climb through his veins, settle in his bloodstream like plaque.

They’re not in the middle of an official performance, just a casual dance-through of their recent single release, so Kei’s not too worried. Much worse could’ve happened. For example: one of his bandmates could’ve seen the cause of his uncharacteristic clumsiness. Speaking of which...

He feels multiple stares boring into the back of his neck, catches a glimpse of Kuroo’s smirk out of the corner of his eye. So much for them not seeing. Kei tries to ignore their looks, but he already feels the start of a headache coming on.

Even though it’d caused him to trip over his own feet just a second ago, Kei can’t help but seek out the distraction again, mocking bandmates pushed clean out of mind. Thankfully, the venue is intimate, fitting just under a hundred people in the audience of folding chairs.

It makes _him_ easy to find.

After a series of quick spins, Kei’s eyes catch again on choppy green hair and a sea of dark freckles. He only allows himself a brief glance, before looking out to the rest of his fans, as their group ends the dance with a team pose. He feels his heart race, as he realizes that the boy had been looking right back at him.

Kei quickly tries to wipe his face of any stray emotion, but one look at Kuroo’s face tells him that he wasn’t fast enough. Damn him.

There’s a chorus of cheers from their audience as the music winds down, which he and his teammates respond to with a low bow. Bokuto starts blowing kisses dramatically, which Kuroo imitates with enthusiasm— he and Akaashi settle for polite waves and smiles.

The host of the fan-event announces over the speakers that people can start lining up to get their CDs signed. This is standard at most signings: fans will bring their copy of the latest album and have a short conversation with the band members, who are lined up in a row behind long plastic folding tables. Each person usually gets a few minutes with each idol, which means that the event often takes a few hours.

Kei has few regrets with his career of choice. He loves making music, loves being able to sing for a living. He’s grown so much creatively and individually, his company giving him many opportunities to branch out and learn about his passions. Even though he’d never admit it, being with his bandmates has been infinitely rewarding as well. Having people to share their unique struggles with is a blessing.

Unfortunately though, their closeness can also be a curse. Case in point: the prodding at his side by bony elbow.

“So,” Kuroo needles as he leans in, voice low, “freckles, huh?”

Three words. Only three words and he manages to annoy Kei this bad. Before he can get back at him with some calculated passive-aggression, another voice is joining in.

“Kei!! Is that why you messed up the choreo back there?”

Bokuto is stage whispering, much to Kei’s dismay. “I knew something was up, that move was way too simple to trip over!” His eyes start scanning the crowd, which shakes Kei into action.

“ _Stop that_ ,” he hisses, making Bokuto grin at him cheekily.

“Aww, don’t be mad Tsukki! I just want to see who made you look so happy!!”

Kei is quite certain he hadn’t even smiled. He can feel a vein starting to bulge in his temple. In desperation, he looks to Akaashi for help, but the dark-haired man already has something of a smile tracing his features. The traitor. He makes eye contact with Kei and only huffs out a laugh, eyes knowing.

Kei hates his bandmates, he thinks to himself, as they sit down in their respective seats.

Thankfully, the line starts moving right then, the first fan taking a seat to his left, in front of Akaashi. Kei wipes his mind of irritating messy-haired faces and takes out his pen, ready for the grueling hours ahead.

—

They’re about an hour into the fansign now. Kei can feel his polite, idol facade wearing down as more and more people come up to his seat. He would never be rude to his fans on purpose, but sometimes it’s a close thing, when the lack of sleep and impressive heat catch up to him.

He’s handing a fan back her album with a polite “thank you for supporting us” when a familiar face enters his line of vision.

“Hi!” Freckle Boy says. He sits down across from him and slides his album over, smile widening as he makes eye contact with Kei.

“Hello,” Kei returns somewhat dazedly, before remembering to ask, “What’s your name?”

When he’d first spotted the boy in the crowd, his freckles had been enough to catch Kei’s attention, even from hundreds of feet away. It’d been enough for Kei to search for a second look, something he’s almost never done in his years of performing.

He was not prepared for the distance to close down to a table’s width.

The boy’s mouth opens in a response, still grinning. Kei is captivated by the way the specks on his face move with the smile, gets dizzy taking in the rest of his face. His skin is sun-kissed, and his hair shaved in a subtle undercut that Kei’s fingers itch to touch. Wait.

He’s looking at Kei expectantly now. Kei looks back blankly, coming back to his senses. Much, much too late. He feels Kuroo to his right, probably sneering. He doesn’t have to look to know.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t get your name.”

Kei ends his inquiry there, not completely sure if the boy had said anything else. He hopes he didn’t come off as too rude.

Freckle boy’s eyes widen in surprise for a second, before huffing out a laugh. It’s a nice laugh, Kei thinks absently.

“Yamaguchi Tadashi,” the boy responds, his mouth turned up in an amused smile. “You okay? You zoned out for a good minute there,” he teases. He keeps going, asks a question or something, but Kei can’t focus for the life of him, eyes trained on the boy’s haircut. The shaved end looks really soft, he thinks, before he can stop himself. He knows he shouldn’t have skipped coffee this morning.

Yamaguchi pauses again, searching Kei’s face, before bursting out into laughter.

“What’s wrong! Did you just get out of bed?” He tilts his head, still smiling that smile, “You’re really bad at your job!!”

Kei chokes on a laugh, not expecting the jab. Yamaguchi quickly backtracks, face morphing into a mortified expression.

“Oh my god, wait!! I’m so sorry, that sounded funny in my head but it came out really rude...” he trails off and flails his hands around endearingly, seemingly at a loss for words. Kei smiles at the movement. He’s falling so hard. He’s also going to get so much shit for this.

“It’s whatever, don’t worry about it. Sorry for zoning out, Yamaguchi-kun. Is there a certain message you’d like me to write?” Kei considers his next words. “To make up for that, just now.”

He hears a cough to his left. Traitor Akaashi.

Yamaguchi hums. “I need you to make it out to my friend Yachi actually! I’m here on her behalf. She was too shy to come see you guys,” he says with a fond smile. “Actually, can you write something telling her not to stress too much over school? She’s been beating herself up over a bad grade for weeks now! And it was only on an optional assignment…”

Kei starts writing, wondering about Yachi. She seems sweet. Kei understands the stress about school. He has his own paper to write when he gets back to their dorm. Briefly, he wonders if Yamaguchi likes her.

Something must shift in his expression, because Yamaguchi’s asking, “Is something on your mind?”

Kei clears his throat, embarrassed to be caught. He hesitates before asking, “Do you like her?”

Yamaguchi blinks in surprise, before reassuring him, “Naaah, she’s into girls. I used to have a huge crush on her, but that obviously didn’t go anywhere.” He laughs, and Kei smiles. “She’s totally obsessed with you guys though! I didn’t get it at first, until seeing you guys perform earlier. You’re an amazing singer!! And dancer.”

“Thank you,” Kei responds politely, used to the compliment. He hopes Yamaguchi didn’t notice him stumble earlier. Not that he cares what Yamaguchi thinks of him. Because he doesn’t.

They still have two minutes or so before the buzzer will ring, prompting the fans to move up in line. Kei is about to offer a stock conversation starter before Yamaguchi blurts out,

“I heard from the girls in line that you’re really into reptiles!”

He looks so enthused that Kei is momentarily taken aback. Usually when people ask him about this topic, it’s only out of politeness. Yamaguchi actually seems excited, if the stars in his eyes are anything to go by.

Encouraged by his apparent interest, Kei replies, “They were my favorite animals when I was a kid. I used to have a pet iguana, but I’m too busy to take care of one nowadays.”

Yamaguchi makes a disappointed sound. He looks a bit sad. Kei feels the inexplicable urge to cheer him up. He continues,

“I’ll be finishing up university soon though. I’m hoping to adopt another one after I graduate.”

The boy across from him brightens at that. He responds, “That’s awesome!! I have no idea how you’re handling both school and your job at once, I’d be so tired all the time. That’s super cool!!”

Kei would usually brush this type of comment aside, but something about Yamaguchi’s enthusiasm gets to him. He files the warm feeling away in his chest.

Yamaguchi continues, “I have a crested gecko at home. I was so excited to talk to you after the girls told me about your interest in them! Her name is Shortcake!!”

He’s pulling out his phone to show Kei pictures. Shortcake is a vibrant red color, much like her namesake.

“She’s very beautiful,” Kei offers. “Her morph is rare for her breed. I’ve never seen one such a vibrant red.” He truly is impressed, admires the photos down to the detail. “You got very lucky. Breeders usually don’t let those go without a fight.”

Yamaguchi grins wide at that. “She’s actually a rescue!” He scrolls a bit further back into his camera roll, taps on another photo, and shows it to Kei.

“Shortcake was actually brown when I first adopted her. She’d been neglected by her past owner, so her health had deteriorated a lot. Once I gave her a real enclosure and a better diet though, she started changing color! She’s super healthy now—”

Yamaguchi’s voice shines with pure joy as he rambles about his gecko. As much as he’s interested in the freckled boy’s story, Kei finds his attention drifting from the cell phone to its owner’s face. There’s a certain glow to his eyes that wasn’t there before. Warm, affectionate. Proud. It’s so obviously there now that Kei can’t believe he’d overlooked it.

Distantly, he begins crafting lyrics together in the back of his mind.

Yamaguchi’s looking up at him again, his monologue tapering to a close. His cheeks tinge red as he rushes to speak,

“Ah, sorry for rambling there. I must’ve been boring you.” He lets out a nervous laugh, scratching at his jaw.

The movement makes his breath catch. “You’re not boring me,” Kei assures him. “I like reptiles, remember?”

They share a smile at that: Yamaguchi’s stretched wide while Kei’s is subtle, but present. The buzzer sounds, pulling them out of their moment. For once, he finds himself wishing these events could go on for longer.

Yamaguchi makes a small noise that Kei strains his ears to catch. He returns the album to its owner, who gives him another smile.

“It was nice meeting you, Tsukishima!” He chirps.

Kei hums. “Nice meeting you too, Yamaguchi.”

The boy leaves his seat to move onto the next one. In the split second between, Kuroo kicks Kei’s foot underneath the table. Stupid long legs. In a moment of weakness, Kei looks over at his bandmate, only to be met with a leer. He doesn’t know why he bothered.

—

The next hour and a half flies by, and then they’re doing their farewell greeting. As he and the other members line up to bow their thanks and goodbyes, something pulls Kei’s gaze astray. As he straightens, he looks in the general direction of the pull. He spots Yamaguchi immediately, the boy’s height putting him above most of the audience.

Yamaguchi looks away the second they make eye contact, before glancing back sheepishly. He gives a tiny wave, making Kei’s heart stutter. He only nods in response, giving a small smile.

Kei is so fucked.

—

It’s the middle of the night now. Kei is in the studio with Kuroo; they’re polishing the lyrics of a song slotted for their next album release. It’s been a mostly quiet session, Kuroo working on his rap verse while Kei fixes the chorus.

He’s been stuck on one line for the past half hour, and is just about feeling the need to tap out for the night. His mind drifts back to the fansign, and the image of cute smiles and tiny lizards fills his mind. A very specific cute smile, with a very specific little gecko perched in its owner’s wide palm. What was that lyric he was thinking of earlier…

There’s a kick at his shin, and his good mood all but dissipates.

Kuroo laughs at Kei’s frown. “Someone was daydreaming,” he lilts, “wouldn’t have anything to do with Mr. Freckles from earlier now would it- HEY!”

The chairs in their studio are pretty nice, Kei thinks. They’re plush, they have nice armrests— and they’re wheeled.

Kuroo’s getting pushed through the doorway before he can even get out of his seat.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> PHEW! i wasn't going to write this tbh bc i was feeling burnt out (dont procrastinate kids) but... these two give me immense brain rot LOL. I hope u liked it!! I thrive off of encouragement so if u wanna leave kudos/comments they're super appreciated!! but what's more important is that u take care of yourself. drink some water, clean ur room, talk to someone!! i hope you're doing well and if you're not i am sending you strength!!
> 
> some extras:  
> \- kuroo is very supportive and kei loves him very much. i just like playing up their "we love annoying each other" vibe  
> \- also she appears in one line but yachi is adorable and i love her and yamayachi are bffs  
> \- idk if i wanna continue this T^T im marking it as complete for now but. this may change. dont get ur hopes up tho  
> \- https://twitter.com/Mii__ish/status/1290633181289316353?s=20 (contributed to my idol kurostuki brainworms) (it's a dance animation v pretty pls watch)


	2. tsukki in the exotic pet store what will he do

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this is dedicated to everyone who ever asked for a second chapter, i owe u all my life for your validation. i hope u enjoy!!!!
> 
> also this evolved into something WAAAAY beyond what i initially planned for this fic omg so that explains the extreme change in writing style. im trying new things baby!!! i hope its still enjoyable haha... pain. i assembled this over the course of months so it's kind of all over the place HELP but uh. if i dont publish it now i never will. SO HERE!!!

If Kei had any choice in the matter, he would have frozen time to stick on the day of that fansign. He would let time loop over and over on the few moments he had with Yamaguchi, like a needle skips over the vinyl of Kuroo’s overplayed records. He would bask in the repeated melody, burrow into the warmth of Yamaguchi’s countless freckles and hesitant smiles.

The key word in that daydream though, is _would_. Because time, however Kei may wish for it to _relax just one damn second_ , passes. Relentlessly.

Kei doesn’t mean to complain: after all, he’d rather time pass relentlessly than pass him by completely. He’s been productive, objectively speaking: his entire group has been. Together, they compose and write lyrics and sit for interviews and negotiate album release logistics. They spend entire days in the practice room memorizing choreography, pushing their muscles to their limits— the salt of their sweat is only occasionally interrupted by the salt of their frustrated tears, when deadlines creep closer and their bodies refuse to make up for the difference.

At least, this is true for the other members. Kei sweats, sure, but he doesn’t cry. He’s never been the type to, but especially under these circumstances; he’s unlucky enough to have his final exams and upcoming graduation at the same time as they have to prepare for their album release. Simply put, Kei is much too busy to allot any free brain power to anything but idol responsibilities and postgrad preparations. Anything else simply has to wait.

Kei spends a lot of this time sitting at tables. He sits in front of the studio mixing board until Bokuto slaps his shoulders with both hands, urging Kei to join him for his daily yoga routine. He sits with Kuroo, both of them hunched over their dorm’s rickety coffee table as they check Kei’s thesis for typos. He sits in front of his desktop computer replaying performance recordings, rice balls cooling in a plastic bag Akaashi had brought by, with a reminder to _get some sleep, Tsukishima-san_.

He sits his way through obligatory PR meetings and weekly vocal training sessions. After some half-hearted debate with his band members, he signs up for his university’s graduation commencement, and sits his way through that too.

Time passes, relentlessly— and without much sympathy for Kei’s aching tailbone or other failing body parts. His memory with Yamaguchi recedes into the background.

Their group has releases their first full-length album, which climbs to #21 on the national charts the day it debuts. Kei is newly graduated from university, can add a degree in Japanese history to his list of achievements. When he steps out of the student advising building for the last time, he feels his world open up in front of him. It’s a plateau stretching into the distance, pulling at him from all directions. It makes his stomach lurch, with some confusing emotion.

His group has achieved one of their biggest goals, one that they’d collectively dreamed of since formation. Kei is now a college graduate, something he’s been working to achieve since 14. He should feel happy, accomplished even, if the countless calls from family and company higher-ups is anything to go by.

All he can bring himself to feel though, is a vague sense of dissatisfaction. His fingers itch to type a research paper he doesn’t have assigned. He keeps turning on his phone just to stare at the #21 by their album on the national charts, until it blurs into pixels and light.

His world feels at once endless and empty, the simultaneity of it making his head ache.

He should probably address the dissonance. Maybe talk it through with his group members, or with his company-assigned therapist. That would be the smart and well-adjusted adult decision that he is expected to make for himself.

Right now though, Kei is going to walk to the train station. He is going to visit the one place in the city that sells animals other than dogs or fish. He is finally going to go buy that motherfucking iguana.

—

The air in the specialty reptile shop is warm, encroaching on humid. Kei answers the shopkeeper’s greeting with a polite if absent nod; his attention is quickly stolen away by the walls of glass tanks that line the building’s perimeter.

Lizards of all shapes and sizes stare at him from behind glass and under plastic hideouts, their crests and mottled scales lit by the spotlight of buzzing heat lamps. There’s very little movement from the creatures themselves, being content to conserve their energy— but Kei feels anticipation buzz beneath his skin anyway.

He finds the iguanas at the rear of the shop, their tanks taking up the entire back wall. He allows himself a cursory glance at the green iguanas; their enclosure rivals even his height, as large if not larger than the trophy case in his old boss’s office.

When Kei first saw that trophy case, as a teenager yet to sign any contracts, he was impressed by its contents. He and the rest of his group hung onto its gleaming image, hungry for recognition to call their own. Every milestone he remembers, every meeting in that room, is superimposed on the background of lustrous metal shining behind locked glass.

Kei looks back on those days with little nostalgia. The magic of the trophy case has long since been tainted. The stress to live up to corporate expectations, the frustration at their lack of artistic freedom. The trophy case ends up being something in the background for Kei to glare at, when the meetings yet again result in no changes for the group’s well-being.

The scene in front of him now is different, though. The green iguanas behind the glass lounge lazily on tree branches thicker than Kei’s arm. One lies on a bamboo pad suspended from the cage’s ceiling, which sways slightly with its movement. Their eyes are clear and alert, free of any signs of distress. The buzzing beneath Kei’s skin cools at the sight.

Sadly, there’s no way Kei can fit an enclosure like this one in his dorm room, no matter how he rearranges his furniture. He silently bids farewell to the green iguanas, instead stepping over to look into the tank placed beside theirs.

A much smaller iguana resides inside, its skin smoother with the absence of a spiny crest. Its skin blends in perfectly with the sand in its tank, camouflaged as well as a chameleon. As if it can hear Kei’s thoughts, it burrows underneath the sand, popping only its tiny head out of the ground to stare at him with one beady eye. It blinks— and in the split second its eye closes, blends in seamlessly with the sand.

Kei feels properly charmed.

—

His newly purchased desert iguana sits in her carrier atop the back counter, looking unperturbed by her new living situation. He leaves her there for now, choosing to peruse the aisles for tank decorations before going home. The enclosure he bought is already set up in his room and filled with sand, a water dish, and some driftwood he collected from the beach and sanded down by hand. It’s still in need of a hideout though; Kei didn’t have enough confidence in his DIY skills to make anything that complicated.

He’s deliberating between one shaped like a log and another shaped like a T. Rex skull when someone clears their throat behind him. He ignores them and continues with his task, knowing he left enough room in the aisle to walk by.

“The dinosaur one is way cooler,” chirps a familiar voice.

Kei pauses, and looks slowly over his shoulder, as if slowed by the physics of a dream. He almost can’t believe his eyes.

“Yamaguchi,” he responds intelligently.

In the rush of everything, Kei had almost forgotten that Yamaguchi was a real, living person, and not a 10 minute memory that’d been floating in his mind for... what had to be months, now. The fact had simply slipped his mind, become so sanded down by the passage of time that it may as well have been a sleep-deprived hallucination.

But Kei can recognize his voice. And remembers his name… Oh god, Yamaguchi knows that Kei had memorized his name. Yamaguchi, the non-fan at his group’s fan-sign. For their thousand of fans. Kei was never supposed to see him again. And now he knows that Kei remembers him.

Yamaguchi perks up a little at Kei’s blunder, his face splitting into a huge grin.

“Tsukki!! You remember me?” Yamaguchi blurts, cheeks taking on a reddish tint.

_Tsukki?_ Kei thinks. It’s the only thing he’s thinking. Yamaguchi looks so _happy_ to see him. Every train of thought in Kei’s mind screeches on its tracks and crashes together in the middle of his brain, leaving behind a crater the size of the moon.

In other words: his mind is blissfully, woefully, empty.

Kei opens his mouth in an attempt to respond, but his eyes catch on Yamaguchi’s freckles, faded a bit with the autumn months, and the crater is back.

“Uh,” Kei whispers.

Yamaguchi stares at him, eyes wide and expectant. His grin doesn’t leave his face.

“Yeah.” Kei finishes. _Lame,_ he curses himself, _pathetic._ He can feel each individual blood cell rush to his face. He wishes that the shop played music, so it could hide the erratic bass _thumpthumpthump_ of his heart.

Yamaguchi can probably hear it. Kei wants so badly to hide, his cool idol persona sabotaged and thrown so far that there’s no chance of its retrieval now. Kei feels uncharacteristically thrown. He wants to turn into an iguana so he can crawl under a plastic dinosaur skull. He wants to dissipate like a mayfly into the throat of a chubby frog. He wants to _remove himself from existence_.

“Did you… did you end up getting your iguana?” Yamaguchi asks, eyes straying to the aisle of tank decorations. His smile has faded into something of a grimace, to Kei’s dismay.

The reaction is undeniably Kei’s fault. He’s usually proud of how off-putting he can be: It means fewer pointless conversations and less small talk for him to dredge his way through, when the other person gives up after too many clipped responses and prolonged silences. He considers it one of his finest personality traits, one that comes as naturally to him as breathing.

But now, Yamaguchi looks so unsure, his easy smile withering at the corners, and Kei has never regretted his lack of social skills more. He feels an inexplicable pull to flatten out the ends with his thumbs.

The mere thought of such an affectionate action shakes him out of his stupor. He clears his throat, assumes (what he thinks is) a normal expression, and pulls the dinosaur hideout from off the shelf.

“She’s over here, if you want to see her,” he offers.

Yamaguchi brightens at that, and moves to follow behind Kei as he walks, much to his relief.

When they reach the counter where the iguana rests, she perks up at the new introduction. Yamaguchi hunches over and _coos_ at her, babbling nonsense as he admires the speckled pattern of her scales, like he’s meeting a newborn baby instead of a desert reptile.

“Ooh, look at the little baby, look at your _scales_ … You’re so beautiful yes you _are_ …” he coos, voice melodious.

Kei almost feels the urge to jab at him for this, but really, he understands Yamaguchi’s reaction. In another life, wherein Kei inherits his brother’s affectionate expressiveness, he would react the same way.

He also just likes the sound of Yamaguchi’s voice.

That’s why, despite himself and everything he once thought he stood for, Kei just stands there, next to the guy he briefly met one time in a semi-professional setting, while he goes on and on in baby talk to a lizard who’d lost interest about a minute and 200 words ago. That’s why, despite his better judgement, he chooses to stare at him from out of the corner of his eye.

Yamaguchi’s own eyes are open wide, taking in as much of the iguana as he can through the semi-opaque mesh as he babbles gently, almost as if afraid of frightening her. Kei almost lets out a laugh at the show of caution, which he thinks is unnecessary considering how docile the iguana is.

She just stares at Yamaguchi thoughtfully, blinking slowly every once in a while. She didn’t look at Kei for nearly as long when he did the same 15 minutes ago, he notes with a twinge of jealousy.

He shoves down the knee-jerk reaction with a furrowed brow, just as Yamaguchi jerks out of his iguana-induced reverie with a small noise, finally remembering his company.

His neck snaps in Kei’s direction, a blush high on his cheeks. Kei bites down a smirk at his betrayed expression.

“Tsukki! Stop laughing at me!! Why didn’t you say anything??” he protests with a self-deprecating laugh, noticing Kei’s amused expression.

“I wasn’t laughing,” Kei deadpans, “and you two seemed to be having a moment. I didn’t want to interrupt anything important.”

Yamaguchi snorts, letting out a disbelieving huff of laughter.

“Have you named her yet?” He asks, tilting his head with the question. His soft grin has yet to fade, his freckles seeming to shift as he speaks. Kei wants to brush at them, to see if he could really move them around with his fingertips, like sand.

He’s in so deep.

“Why don’t you ask her,” Kei goads, voice even.

Yamaguchi groans helplessly, tipping his head back jokingly.

“So mean…” he grumbles, “I miss it when you had to pretend to like me.”

_Pretend?_ Belatedly, Kei thanks every higher power in existence that he chose to go to the store alone. His group members would never let that comment slide.

He only hums in response, saying, “I haven’t named her yet.”

“Do you need any help?” Yamaguchi chirps.

Kei glances at Yamaguchi, nodding at him to continue.

Yamaguchi purses his lips to contain his smile, but the corners of his mouth tip up anyway.

Kei’s neck feels too warm. He’s starting to feel distinctly insane.

“Well… Her skin kind of looks like the potato wedges I just had for lunch.”

“You want me to name her after potatoes?”

“Yeah, I mea— don’t look at me like that Tsukki, it could be cute! Like, french fry, or tater tot or something.”

Kei feels his cheek spasm in amusement.

“Were you eating shortcake when you named your gecko too?”

This is what makes Yamaguchi blush, surprisingly.

“Well… not exactly. I, uh… I used to like the cartoon as a kid. Hey! D-don’t laugh at me!”

Kei can’t help the snicker that skitters out the side of his mouth.

“Rude!” Yamaguchi protests, fighting back a laugh. “I’ll have you know they look _very_ similar.”

Yamaguchi takes his phone out of his pocket at that, tapping at the screen with purpose. He flips the screen so that Kei can see.

“They’re like twins!”

In the picture, Yamaguchi’s gecko is wearing a tiny, wide-brimmed hat, pink and patterned with strawberries— a perfect replica of the cartoon character’s. Her comically large eyes peer guilelessly into the camera lens, blank and seemingly unaware of the pink monstrosity sitting atop her crest. The sight makes Kei’s lips quirk upward.

“She looks ridiculous,” he replies, immediately regretting the words as he hears them aloud in his deadpan voice.

Kei curses his own lack of hesitation. He’d let his guard down too much, he realizes belatedly. His bandmates don’t take his abrasiveness personally (as much as he sometimes wishes they would), but Yamaguchi isn’t his bandmate.

There’s a pause, and Kei opens his mouth to apologize. When he glances over at Yamaguchi though, he’s (unsuccessfully) covering his smile with his fist.

“You’re right, Tsukki, it is pretty ridiculous,” he says, choking back a laugh. “C’mere, I have more! She has a little dress too, but I could only get one picture in before she shook it off…”

Yamaguchi scoots closer to Kei’s side, fingers sliding through his phone’s camera roll. They’re both leaning against the counter now: Yamaguchi with his hip and Kei with his elbows on its surface, his hands held one atop the other. Yamaguchi shows him more photos of Shortcake, and Kei humors him with (what he hopes are) witty comments. Their banter flows easily, though Yamaguchi is mostly responsible for that; Kei only has to ask him a single question for him to carry their conversation.

“...I should really clear out some of these photos, but I keep hesitating! It’s like, I know they’re all essentially the same photo, but sometimes I can’t decide which angle better captures her _essence_ , you know? Like _here_ her eyes look more expressive, with the lighting and everything, but in _this_ one her crest is more—”

Yamaguchi swipes to the next picture in his phone, but it’s not a gecko in the photo, it’s… A photo of Kei. He recognizes it as one of his fanclub’s photos: it’s of him wearing a frog headband a fan had gifted him at a fansign event months ago. His mouth is contorted into a smile that looks more like a grimace, and his eyes are fogged over with a look of tired resignation, but the picture had still circulated like crazy after the event.

Kei’s initial surprise at seeing a photo of himself in Yamaguchi’s phone passes quickly after he remembers his fans. For some reason, they never make his decent looking photos go viral— it’s always the ones where he’s making a face. Kei sighs internally at the thought. Of all the photos that Yamaguchi could’ve seen…

Yamaguchi chokes on air, quickly flicking past the photo, only to reveal that he has _several_ similar ones lined up before it. He quickly turns off his phone with a groan, slapping his free hand over his face, hiding his expression from Kei. The flush up his neck is fully visible though, Kei notes, with a mix of amusement and secondhand embarrassment.

He doesn’t really know how to feel about Yamaguchi having fansite photos of him in his camera roll, but Kei has to admit it’s nice to know Yamaguchi was thinking of him too. It makes Kei feel like less of a creep. It makes Kei feel a little hopeful.

Yamaguchi looks cute like this too, which is another plus: even his cowlick seems to wilt in shame. He’s mumbling nonsense under his breath and avoiding eye contact with Kei, which is such a contrast from how he was acting earlier that Kei almost wants to laugh, if not for the worrying warmth that builds in his chest at the sight.

“If you have enough phone storage, I don’t see why you can’t keep all of them,” he says instead.

Yamaguchi smiles at that, letting his hands drop to the counter. There’s still a trace of a blush on his cheeks; Kei really wants to commit it to memory.

“If you’re anything like me, you’re gonna need to get extra cloud storage,” Yamaguchi laughs. “Tater Tot’s gonna have more photos of herself than her dad does!”

Kei fights back a blush, and feels himself fail. “Tater Tot?” he repeats, raising an eyebrow.

Yamaguchi grins. “Sorry, Tsukki! The name chooses the lizard, it’s out of my control!” he chirps, looking fondly at Tater Tot in her carrier.

Kei can feel the shop clerk’s eyes on him from across the store. He glances over to the box he’d set on the counter, remembering his original task. Yamaguchi follows his gaze, perking up when he finds where it’s landed.

“Have you set up your tank yet? I know you said that you’ve had an iguana before, but I know a lot of things you could do to get it up and running! I’ve been experimenting with a lot of power-efficient lamp stuff, and I have a couple extra tank decorations that I think would look nice with the dino skull!”

Kei doesn’t think any of that is necessary, except maybe the power-efficient lamp setup, but he doesn’t mention it.

“It could use some spiffing up, I suppose,” he says instead.

“Cool!” Yamaguchi replies. He hesitates a little before asking, “I could give you my number? I don’t have the tank decorations right now, but I could bring them over, or we could meet somewhere if you’re not comfortable—”

“I’d like that,” Kei interrupts, averting his gaze. “If you came over.”

Out of the corner of his eye, Kei sees Yamaguchi beam; his heart stutters in his chest.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> if u want to ask me things my tumblr is @freakkquick. if u want to watch me spiral in real time, my twitter is @geckoyama! kudos and comments are very appreciated but mostly i just hope u have a good week :3 hopefully we survive the rest of 2020 friends. its not looking too hot for me but who knows what the future holds. maybe one day i will have my own homosexual meet(again)-cute in the back of an exotic pet store. anything is possible!


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